_16th January, 1867._--March through the mountains, which are of beautiful white and pink dolomite, scantily covered with upland trees and vegetation. The rain, as usual, made us halt early, and wild fruits helped to induce us to stay. In one place we lighted on a party of people living on Masuko fruit, and making mats of the Shuare[45] palm petioles. We have hard lines ourselves; nothing but a little maere porridge and dampers. We roast a little grain, and boil it, to make believe it is coffee. The guide, a maundering fellow, turned because he was not fed better than at home, and because he knew that but for his obstinacy we should not have lost the dog. It is needless to repeat that it is all forest on the northern slopes of the mountains--open glade and miles of forest; ground at present all sloppy; oozes full and overflowing--feet constantly wet. Rivulets rush strongly with _clear_ water, though they are in flood: we can guess which are perennial and which mere torrents that dry up; they flow northwards and westwards to the Chambeze. _17th January, 1867._--Detained in an old Babisa slaving encampment by set-in rain till noon, then set off in the midst of it. Came to hills of dolomite, but all the rocks were covered with white lichens (ash-coloured). The path took us thence along a ridge, which separates the Lotiri, running westwards, and the Lobo, going northwards, and we came at length to the Lobo, travelling along its banks till we reached the village called Lisunga, which was about five yards broad, and very deep, in flood, with clear water, as indeed are all the rivulets now; they can only be crossed by felling a tree on the bant and letting it fall across. They do not abrade their banks--vegetation protects them. I observed that the brown ibis, a noisy bird, took care to restrain his loud, harsh voice when driven from the tree in which his nest was placed, and when about a quarter of a mile off, then commenced his loud "Ha-ha-ha!"